


Daily Art Prompts: Fall 2020

by BlueTiger788, Lis (BlueTiger788)



Category: No Fandom
Genre: Daily Challenge, F/F, F/M, Original Character(s), Warnings will be put in notes of each writing, prompts
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-09-17
Updated: 2020-11-26
Packaged: 2021-03-07 21:48:26
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 47
Words: 10,592
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26504683
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/BlueTiger788/pseuds/BlueTiger788, https://archiveofourown.org/users/BlueTiger788/pseuds/Lis
Summary: My writing submissions for a daily prompt thing I'm doing with my friends.





	1. Neutral Ground

**Author's Note:**

> No warnings

There was something wrong with the space. A mixing pot of energies that refused to synergize. There was a ceasefire, a sort of treaty or peace. But the animosity was still thick in the air, so many sides that have been at war since time was created forced in one place. Dark, light, void, life, death, arcane, and purity. The fundamentals of the universe, constantly in battle to be the ruling presence, the energies that have made all that is known, forced into submission and brought together. Forced to, for once in their long lives, cooperate and make something of all of them. Or they’d lose all they knew and all they’ve created. So they mix here, slowly and with a great hesitance, for the good of all. They make one place, a single spot in the vast universe, that is a neutral ground. A place owned by all and none at the same time. It felt disturbed, they were never made to mix. Like a bug crawling down your spine, your lungs full of water, your head full of cotton, that’s what it felt like. It felt like fading into non-existence. But still it is here, the neutral ground, so that the fragment could be repaired and made anew. A necessary evil, wrong in every sense of the world, so right could still exist.


	2. Dark Green

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> TW:  
> Slight Body Horror

“Y’know, I thought it was gonna be more…. shimmery? Glittery? Literally anything more like a gemstone?”

It wasn’t. The surface shined faintly under the light, but otherwise was quite opaque, and even had some black dots near the surface when she looked closer. There was a faint green light shining down onto the floor, but otherwise her silhouette didn’t look very different from back when she had a real left arm.

“I don’t know. Emeralds aren’t really… see-through I think? Though they’re also supposedly hard to work with and break so I’m not really sure how this is working. Or how its attached to my shoulder.”

“Yeah no shit, how the fuck are you moving it?”

She moved the arm, and it performed just like hers used to. No loss in range of motion, the fact it was made of hard gemstone did nothing to hinder its movement. She clenched her fingers, then unclenched them, then grabbed her other arm. The gemstone made no noise, and was even warm to the touch. 

“It feels just like a regular arm, but it's just. Y’know. Made of emerald. Fuck dude I don’t know whats happening.”

“Yeah really. And they said it would help with the whole spell casting thingy you do? You were having issues so they gave you a magic, emerald arm?”

“Apparently. I’m not really sure if I want to test casting yet. It’s just. Weird. Yet somehow, right.”

She looked away for a moment, then back down at the new addition. Bringing it to her face, she rested her head in it and sighed. 

“Okay. Okay. I have a weird gemstone arm that supposedly is a proper conduit for my magic now that was given to me by some weird god thingy that thinks I’m “neat”. So now I can go on and do what I was originally planning back before I blew my other arm up. Great, wonderful. What the fuck.”


	3. A Familiar

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> TW:  
> Again Slight Body Horror

Night personified. Eyes of citrine. Claws of marble. Hairs made of silver woven within the void of his coat. Teeth sharper than diamond, lusting for blood. An ancient spirit barely contained beneath his skin, sending ripples along his spine and causing his form to shake with power unknown to this plane of existence. Perhaps the form used to be a mere cat, but it certainly wasn’t any longer. It was honed as a weapon and used as a vessel now, a conduit for the evil below. A being that was, fundamentally, wrong. 

She knew this when she signed her contract, but that didn’t make the sight any easier. Though… 

“So you’re just… a cat?”

He growled at her, and hopped up on the arm of the lush chair she sat in.

“Don’t call my vessel as such, witch. I am a demon of the 2nd order, and my vessel is that of a panther.”

“I don’t know dude you just kinda look like a housecat but something’s wrong with you.”

He curls up next to her and glares.

“That’s… surprisingly rude of you. Do you wish for death?”

“C’mon kitty, aren’t you supposed to help me? Black cat familiar deal?”

She tentatively begins to pet his head. He looks contemplative, and bares his teeth, but after a moment settles down and begins to purr. 

“Mmmmmmm, what? Yes, I am supposed to help you but don’t forget I am a very high ranking and…” He yawns. “Very important demon. Do not disrespect me again. But do keep doing whatever this is.”  
He yawns once more then falls into what appears to be a deep sleep. She, sure he’s no longer listening or watching, grins widely.

“Good kitty”

“I will murder you girl.”


	4. Tart

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> TW:  
> Manipulative/Toxic Relationship

“C’mon you didn’t really think I loved you, did you?”

A sting in my heart, sharp and sudden.

“Foolish foolish human. You were a means to an end, nothing more.”

Why does it hurt so much?

“Oh sweetheart, I made you _feel _something, didn’t I?”__

__What is this feeling?_ _

__“Oh I did! How funny.”_ _

__You._ _

__“Pfft. Oh you poor, poor little baby.”_ _

__How dare you._ _

__“Well. I’ll leave you with that hm? Sweetheart?”_ _

__I will never forget this._ _

__“Don’t you want to say something to your beloved before she goes?”_ _

__I will never forgive you._ _

__“Just a sentence. Tell me how you feel…”_ _

___I hate you__ _


	5. A River

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> TW:  
> Mentions of depressive and suicidal thoughts  
> Generally Depressing Outlook

My mind is a river and one day I will drown. 

It's an inevitability at this point. I can only hold off the storm, the rapids, the never ending assault, for so long. I’m not strong enough to win the war though I win most of the battles now. My mind will not tire as my spirit will. It will go and go and go and I will not be able to hang onto the small precipice that keeps me afloat for much longer. The water is red with the blood that it demands be spilled, black with the icor that oozes from my thoughts at night, blue with the chill that is ever present in my heart. I want to let go sometimes, just let myself be washed away and never return. Sometimes I think it wouldn’t be so bad to disappear. Sometimes the water washes over my face and I almost drown, but not quite. Sometimes I stay below the surface for longer than I should. I try my best to pretend I’m not almost always a step from being washed away, try my best to pretend I’m okay. The mask I wear is cracked and filled in over and over and over again and it aches, but it works. I will pretend and pretend and pretend until one day the rapids will appear and whisk me away. Do not search for me when I’m gone please, I beg, I beg, I beg of you to leave me be. Let me drown alone and in peace. Let the river of my thoughts take me where I belong.


	6. Zest

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> TW:  
> Painful/random action at the end

Sharp. Fresh. Alive. 

An explosion of colors assault my eyes as I enter the orchard. Citrus of all colors surrounds me, so many choices, and I can choose any of them. Do I go for the versatile orange, sweet or sour or flavors yet undescribed? Do I go for the shining lemon, known for flavor and an unforgettable kick? Do I go for the forgotten lime, overshadowed by the lemon but no less of a powerhouse itself? Or do I go for the intense grapefruit, which feels like a punch to the gut in the best way? So many possibilities lie ahead of me, so many dishes and drinks and anything else your mind could imagine! And so I sit here and look at the fruit, and make my decision. I take my citrus from the tree, high above the ground, vibrant and beautiful. I grab my tool, look upon the fruit once more, and begin my work. 

I zest the fruit directly into my mouth and then squeeze the juice in my eyes. _I’m the citrus now. ___


	7. Normal

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> TW:  
> Creepy depictions of a hallway  
> Demons

The hallway is bright, the artificial light burning your corneas. Outside the window at the end of the hall is dark, and you can’t make out any distinct shapes. No one is in the hallway, all the wooden doors are shut tight. The only sound is the faint buzzing of the light bulbs and your shoes on the floor. It shouldn’t be as terrifying as it feels, you’re just going to the bathroom during the night. Your roommate is fast asleep in your dorm, as are your neighbors. Your phone screen burned 3:32 am into your eyes. You’re alone in the hallway. So why does it feel like you’re being watched?

The walk to the bathroom door has never felt so long. You pass door by identical door, names plastered on them with cheap scotch tape. Your flip flops echo as you make your way, a deafening slapping sound within the silence. Finally, after your trek down the hall with white walls and peach tile, you are confronted with the bathroom door. The letters “BATHRO M 11” are plastered on the simple wood, the other o leaving residue from where it fell off sometime before you came to college. You’ve used this bathroom since you came a month ago. Its familiar, or at least it should be, yet as you reach for the door handle, a chill runs down your spine. Something, from the most primal part of your mind, is screaming at you to run. To hide. That something isn’t right. 

“God I need more sleep,” you tell yourself.

Shaking your head at what you deem to be sleep deprived delusions, you reach for the door handle. The matte grey looks back at you as you stare at it. It’s hard to move your hand. You do anyway, grasping the metal with a vigor you didn’t know you had.

The metal is freezing cold.


	8. Pale Blue

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> TW:  
> Toxic Relationship

Her eyes set me free. 

I was trapped, alone and scared. She came, she saw, and she took me away. But I was still there, still trapped in that place. I was terrified of the world, because who knows when that could happen again? So I was trapped inside my own home, inside my own creation, inside my own mind. And she saw me. And she helped me. And she guided my way through the darkness like a guardian angel. She helped me see the light again, see the color. See the vibrant green that emerged from the trees and the grass, the pink of the flowers she grew in the garden, the blue of the pond in the backyard. I saw and saw and saw, and I began to live again. 

Then one day I looked in her eyes, her wonderful deep and vast eyes, and it set me free of my shackles. 

Her wonderful pale blue eyes, they entranced me. They welcomed me. They lulled me into security and sleep. They brought me to places I’d never been before.

Her eyes, her wonderful pale blue eyes set me free…

_Straight into a new cage. ___


	9. Sapling/Growth

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> No Triggers

When the maters first planted the seed, it shined white. A brilliant, all encompassing white so bright that you couldn’t see the small seed that was made of all of them. They dug a small hole within the earth, placed it in carefully, and covered it up once more. Small lances of light still protruded from the soil, and the seed shined with all its might, trying to let them know it was still there. Then came the rain that held the seed like its child, nursing it to grow into a small sapling. The small growth broke through the layer of dirt that covered it, and its roots extended down deeper into the earth. It was tiny, weak even, but it still glowed from within with that awe inspiring light. The light was still white.

When the seasons were born, first Winter, with her might. She covered all the land in the same brilliant white of the tree, but it soon began to shine blue. Winter made her home in the valley, as the maters instructed her to, and she stayed there peacefully. Then came Fall, with his cleverness, whose snow melted and trees grew vibrant. He made his home within the vibrant forests of his nature, scavenging and learning stealth as the maters asked him to. The tree began to grow taller and taller, now half blue and half red. Then came Spring, with her revitalizing nature, who brought green back to the world and light storms to keep them alive. She made her home on the largest mountains and practiced and learned the arts of nature and healing, just as the maters instructed her to. The Tree dwarfed over all of the island, shining brilliant blues greens and reds. Finally came Summer, with his energy, who made Sol shine with pride and brought the heat. He made his home in the forest and the beach and learned to cast, just as the maters asked of him. The Tree was massive, marbled blue, red, green, and orange shining from within its bark with power unforeseeable. They were named Capressi, and they finally stopped growing. They grew a soul, and a mind, and spirit, and the maters left to attend to their own business, assured They would watch over the plan set in motion. But it never works out quite as planned, does it?


	10. White Flowers

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> TW/Ratings:  
> Description of vagina  
> Vague descriptions of sex

Dahlia.

A fragile and beautiful specter that dances in front of my eyes with shimmering grace. She wears dresses of cotton and silk that flowed like white roses, silky and soft as her skin. She smells of star jasmine, sweet and lovely and mesmerizing. I am caught in her petals, surrounded by her flowering buds, lost within her vines. A lily of the valley, she is so small in my arms yet grew on me like an freshly budding queen anne’s lace. Even in the winter, when all other life died and the white of snow overtook our world, she was still in full bloom. My beautiful camellia, I treasure her with my whole being. And her love for me, hardy as Nemesia, grew and surrounded the heart of mine that I thought was long dead like vinca and revived it once more. She is not like delphiniums, no, she is a temperate soul but she loves with the passion of Mother Nature. Even as I worship at her altar, her labia like wisteria, she makes sure I am alright. She puts my pleasure above hers, and I put hers above mine. We fit together like flowers and vines, and she opens for me like moonflower. Oh she’s beauty, she’s grace, my wonderful little wildflower. And like the vines of a white trumpet plant, I will support her as she blooms and takes my breath away.


	11. Medium Yellow

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> TW:  
> Bees

Yellow  
Splash of color upon my vision  
It is to you  
Humble bumblebee   
That I dedicate this shitty poem  
You bring me light  
In these dark times  
Pollinator   
Your honey  
Hand it over


	12. Schadenfreude

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> TW:  
> Toxic Relationship(past)  
> Sad outlook  
> Mention of mental breakdown

He’d like to see me like this I think  
Sanity hanging on by a thread  
Mood like a tripwire

He’d probably think it’s what I deserved  
Karma finally making good on her job  
Knocking down my door  
And removing any sense of comfort I had

He’d relish in watching me drown  
Floundering as my supports dropped  
And I was left to rush out to sea  
Alone and empty by my own undoing

He’d think this shit was hilarious  
Lis finally having to face it  
And being unable to beat it back

Would you like that ******?  
To see me suffer  
As apparently I made you?

I call out to a ghost who is no longer there  
A spectre that haunts the edges of my vision  
And taints all it touches

I can’t escape his memory  
He’s woven into my very bones and soul  
And I can’t tear him out

No one knows where he is  
What he’s doing  
If he’s happy with whoever he’s with

Are you happy ******?  
Were you able to scrape me off of you?  
Or was I never that deep in the first place?

I just want to move on already  
Like you clearly have  
Why are you still so ingrained in me?


	13. Devotion

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> TW:  
> Violence  
> Descriptions of death  
> Slight body horror

It was almost mesmerizing to watch, in the most grotesque way possible. He knew what she had done, hell he had committed the worst of it. He knew her heart was ash, burned down in the fire that claimed all she had loved. He knew he could not own her heart as she did his. And yet his devotion was unwavering. He stood by her, head held high, as she razed his homeland. He held the blade that killed the regent, a man who had raised him like his own son. He was completely and utterly hers, in mind, body and soul. Nothing could tear him from her side, except by her own command. So perhaps it wasn’t that surprising that, when Karma finally came knocking down her door, she ordered him to try and take them on and he did. He was ripped limb from limb, body from soul, atom from atom. And she stood back and watched, unblinking and unfeeling, as the one person who always stood by her side died in the worst way imaginable. She was completely emotionless, assured she was saved, until Karma turned their bloodshot eyes on her. 

“Did you think giving him over would stop me? You’ve only made your punishment worse, young empress.”

His body was found, clutching a black heart in his hands. Her body was never found.


	14. Despair

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> TW:  
> Slight Body Horror  
> Death  
> Descriptions of War  
> Violence  
> Depressing Outlook

One hope. One last chance to hold off against an overwhelming force that threatened to not only overtake them and their homeland, but rid them of existence entirely. If they lost here, they would never be remembered. They’d be reduced to dust that would be swept away in the winds. Their princess was gone, either she had betrayed them or she was gone. She tried her best to do right by them, her father taken from her far too early. But she was naive, and did not know how the universe worked quite yet, not enough to be in a position of power. They were already on a downward spiral, their power and kingdom wavering and weakening day by day. But then they came. They were supposed to save them, lead them to a new era of prosperity. Of peace and balance. They were aided by her, their golden princess. By all means, they should be in peacetime. But then they turned. They were the enemy, and they had little hope to combat those they had once welcomed into their own homes. He was their last hope, their one final commander. He was hers once upon a time, and he stands at the head now, her pendant fused into his gem hand. He believes her dead, or in a fate worse than death. His fury broils with the might of a thousand fires, his bloodlust barely containable. He raises his hand, and they march onwards to the battlefield. He stays at the front of the lines, the equivalent of an entire army, forever with his men. Then there is a scream. His axe falls to the ground as his cry sounds out across their army. And they watch him, their one last hope, their only salvation, the only piece of their princess that was left, Darien, as he becomes fully crystalline, and _shatters. ___


	15. Relaxation

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> No Triggers

The world, for once, has calmed. The room is a good temperature, not too cold but not warm either. The blankets are fuzzy, and feet are warm underneath them. The pillows are fluffy, the pillowcases soft. Clothes are pajamas, fuzzy and comforting. The cup is warm, well made hot chocolate wafting its scent into the air. Snuggling into the cozy space, it’s peaceful. Even if just for a moment, in a world where perhaps all will go to shit if it hasn’t already, everything is okay. Drifting in and out of sleep, mug still a pleasant warmth like memories of childhood, it’s paradise. Outside is a light dusk, framing the room in reds, and pinks, and purples. Music pours out from headphones that fit just right, soft and reminiscent of something heard long ago. Weary bones let go of their grudges, exhausted muscles finally get their rest, a mind running for eternity stops and sleeps. It is relaxed. Sleep finds and lays to rest a body that desperately needs it, and all fades to white noise.


	16. Ennui

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> TW:  
> Bones  
> Death

There’s only so much a god can do before they grow bored, she supposed. She twirled the dagger between her fingers, the power imbued steel glinting in the light, contrasting the white of the ribs that made the handle. She sat upon a throne made of the bones of the old gods, whom she killed with a ferocity feared and resented. The collarbone of the fertility goddess framed the top, the femurs of the twin war gods the arm rests she leaned upon. The humeri of the god of death and the goddess of night made her seat. The back was made of shingling of the muses’ and the water nymphs’ sternums. All this planet once was bent and shaped to her will, forced to support her and show their obedience to a new order. She conquered a planet once thought to be the best, the most powerful, the ones to be feared. It was infuriatingly simple and easy. So now she sat, bored out of her fucking mind, with nothing to do. Torturing the souls that remained trapped on the planet lost its charm quick, as did blowing up the lovely landscape the old gods left behind. She had led a planet of prosperity to ruin, and now that she was done, she had nothing to entertain her. Perhaps she should have let them put up a better fight, so the despair in their loss would have sustained her longer. No matter, she needs to find something to do, and quick. Perhaps that little planet with the new arrogant war goddess would be fun to destroy...


	17. Remix

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> TW: None  
> The first portion is a translation of the opening lines of Homer's Illiad.

"Sing, goddess, of the anger of Achilles, son of Peleus,  
Accursed, which brought countless pains upon the Achaeans,  
Hurled to Hades many strong souls of heroes,  
Served them up as carrion for the dogs and all the birds –  
The will of Zeus being fulfilled – since the son of Atreus, lord of men,  
And godlike Achilles first feuded and quarreled." - Homer

I hear your calls poet. I hear you reach out to me, Calliope, to aid you as you tell a story yearning to burst forth from your chest. I answer you, as you call for my blessing, that I shall aid in your quest. I shall sing the song of a war past, a song bloody as it is beautiful. A song of brutal death, jealousy, honor, but perhaps greatest of all, I shall sing of a song about fury. The fury of a demigod, the son of Peleus and Thetis, whose refusal cost thousands of lives and led to many losses for the Achaeans. So many souls of the strong, mighty, and honorable were thrown carelessly to Hades. Oh the fury of Achilles, what losses it caused, what horror could have been avoided by his strength. So many bodies, nothing more than food for the vultures to fly away with and the dogs to drag into their foul dens. The will of Zeus, the mighty father of all Gods and all of Greece, lighting bearer and lord of skies, was on its way to be fulfilled when such tragedy struck. I shall then begin, mortal, with the fight that incited such godlike anger: The first quarrel between Agamemnon, lord of all men and leader of the siege upon Troy, and the godlike Achilles, blessed by his mother, taught by Chirion, and dipped within the styx.


	18. Renewal

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> TW:  
> Mentions of magical healing(wounds being restitched)  
> War  
> Undertones of internalized homophobia

It was never a pleasant experience, for either party. Skin being remade and sown together again, organs placed back where they belong, blood washed away and being pumped back into healed arteries. She hated it, relying on such cursed power. It was disgusting, glowing with a sickly green from her hands of bone and witchery. A spirit made from hatred and fury, sick and twisted and revoltingly gentle in her healing. They were never meant to see each other, let alone speak or touch. Yet they lie here, a human with iron will and a banshee softened by the years. Black magic brushes against the holy power that flows through her whole body, and yet they never clash. Instead they mix and grow stronger, revitalizing her. In this moment they stop, an intermission from their never endings fight, and they let themselves feel the sickness that lives in their hearts. She allows the undead to heal her wounds, grotesque as it is, and the undead takes her time in making her stronger than before. They both now what they must return to after all is said and done, renew their hatred and conflict and inflictions of wounds. But for now, in an uncomfortable moment of necessity, they allow themselves to sink into the undercurrent. They allow themselves lighter touches, eyes meeting and holding, tenderness that shouldn’t exist. It disgusts them both, but in a world with never ending war, what is one moment of weakness? They’ll renew what is expected of them once she’s healed.


	19. Goodnight

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> TW:  
> Death  
> Depressing outlook

She thought it would be dark, or light, or different than this at least. She thought it would be cold, or perhaps warm, or something. She didn’t think it would be nothing at all, no sense of dark or warmth or anything at all. It was truly the abyss, nothing all consuming, _Nil igitur mors est ad nos. _How she existed still was a mystery to her, some form of her soul still hung on in something. She was stuck in this eternal hell, left with nothing but her own thoughts. Like a dream, or perhaps a nightmare, she could only have what was hers. Some sort of never ending dream, terrible and wondrous, because she had no idea what happened. One moment she was trapped, dead but not gone, within her soul shards. The Raith found her, and freed her, and then she was stuck here. Why? Hadn’t she suffered enough, at the hands of a power hungry God and uncaring Devil? Hadn’t she paid her dues, suffered and fought and pushed for the freedom of her world? Hadn’t she been a champion of what was right? The primal forces of the universe had her at their beck and call, and she had been faithful! She brought one of their most powerful and fervent believers to them. So why, why do they forsake her now! Why do they leave her to this _perpetuum nihil, _a never ending night! She is alone once more, left with her anger and her spite and her pain festering. She can feel herself slipping into it, losing herself as time passes if it even is at all. She’s furious, she’s done, she’s alone, she’s broken, she’s in pain, she’s…. Gone.____

____Goodnight._ _ _ _


	20. Love

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Not TW

I don’t feel much.  
Don’t know if I ever did  
Or if its just another thing I forgot

But this feeling  
Oh this one I feel  
I’m smiling just thinking about it

It’s warm  
And fuzzy and soothing  
It's… nice.

I feel it when he smiles  
Or when he sends me something  
That reminded him of me

I’ve felt it for years  
And it hasn’t really faded  
It's a part of me now

It doesn't hurt  
Not anymore  
I’ve made peace he'll never be mine

Instead it’s something savor  
A secret emotion I have for myself  
A light in that darkness

I’m happy when he's happy  
I love it when he laughs  
My love for a little birdy


	21. Hymn

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> No TW  
> I'm bad with meter don't judge me

Oh light of mine, to that divine   
and yet simple sphere, see  
the beauty, grace, which in that moonshine  
salvation is guaranteed


	22. Uncontained

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> TW:  
> Gore  
> Blood

It was a sick kind of satisfaction, he knew. A grotesque play meant for an audience of one. There was something almost poetic about the crimson that had begun to stain the stone walls, songs that could be written about the look in lifeless eyes trapped in a moment of ending, hymns about the power that lurked just beneath his skin and facade. There was art in the color of death, glowing purples and greens and blues. Beauty within uncontained fury, hatred, power. A painting come to life within a throne room of a kingdom whose rulers were just a bit too arrogant, a bit too sure, a bit too righteous. Regal purples swirled with the glacier ice that froze their blood, majestic golden thrones burning with green fire that scorched their flesh, silver armour sets still imbued with purple souls of the damned. A gilded cage now put to the guillotine, a force that should have never been harnessed released with all of the might of a forsaken god. They knew not what they had called upon themselves until they were already dead, their essence now harnessed within his ever growing army. The dead know their place, it is the living that intrudes upon where they shouldn’t. Those who try to call themselves masters find themselves subdued by an undying agent of doom. 

Oh how very unfortunate, isn’t it?


	23. Stars

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> No TW

They are bright and brilliant.   
I am awed by their mere existence,   
their power washing over me.   
A warmth fills my soul   
at the sight of them.   
Ah, the stars.


	24. Peak

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> TW:  
> Depression  
> Trauma(medical mostly)  
> Paranoia

I see things that aren’t there. I hear things that don’t exist. Footsteps upon hardwood floors figments of my mind. Calls never rung out heard in broken ears. I’m scared. I feel the stares on my back like heat, chills running down my spine, caught suspended between fight and flight. I try to make myself small, defendable, but you can’t outsmart a threat that doesn’t exist. Smells conjure images from years long gone, the sound of beeps my only lifeline. Disinfectant like smoke up my nose, hanging there, never moving from the spot on my mind it has overtaken. Sniffles send my mind into a frenzy, coughs like the scythe of death on her neck. Words show me her in the bed again, unmoving. The hallway sends me down a path I can’t tread on my own, yet I must. Music reminds me of him and agony pierces my mind. I can’t be free, can I? And at my peak, no one hears my call for help because it can’t exist, it can’t exist, it can’t exist because I won’t call out. I’m trapped in a cage of my mind's creation that squeezes me tighter with each reminder, breaking bone after bone after bone until I am nothing but dust.


	25. Guard

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> TW:  
> None

On my guard  
No cracks in my facade  
They suspect nothing

They know not  
The darkness in my heart  
The evil woven in my bones

Am I solid enough,  
My shield strong enough,  
To weather the storm?


	26. Error

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> TW:  
> Depressing

You know you’ve made a mistake. An error.  
I’m not what you wanted. I’m never what they want. Won’t say I didn’t warn you.   
C’mon let’s be realistic here. Is this what you imagined?  
No, there’s a flaw in that code of yours,  
Miscalculation that left you with me.  
Took a chance, didn’t double check, now you wish you could go back right?  
Not my first time, go ahead  
Uninstall me from your life, it's better for both of us ain't it?  
I’m never the first choice except by chance.  
So no, I won’t mind  
You get used to being an error after a while.


	27. Avian

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> TW:  
> None

A lone traveler walks up the mountain, using his lance as a walking stick. If he lifted his hand he could likely graze the clouds, closer to the gods than humanity. Though that could be more literal if he would just get up this stupid rock already. Seriously how tall is this hunk of junk??? All he has to do is get rid of those weak ass gods and all he’s ever wanted will be in his reach. Oh! The glory he will bring back! The things he could get, the women and men fawning over his every move, the gold! The trek sloughs on, and he grows more and more fanatic as time passes. By the time he reaches the mouth of the cave, he’s practically foaming at the mouth. He checks the straps on his armor, gives his lance two swings, then faces the cave. The dark stares into him, like it’s judging his sins.   
“Oh well! Look what filth has found its way to our doorstep.”  
“Oooooo, he looks tasty”  
“He’s human, too tainted, has that gross aftertaste.”  
“Ladies ladies calm down, we can have fun with him beyond just eating him..”  
The man readies his lance, dropping into a fighting stance.  
“Show yourselves cowards! I am Lord Corneulis of the Kingdom of Jesoca, and I will finally rid the world of your horrible existences!”  
Slight ruffling sounds can be heard echoing from the cave.  
“Oh do you hear that girls, an honest to Gaea Lord! I’m sooo scared.”  
“Stop mocking me and face me like men!”  
Laughing hits him in the face like a physical blow. When he opens his eyes, 3 red ones look back at him.  
“Like men huh? What do you say?”  
“I suppose we could, though it’s so boring…”  
“If we must.”  
Three shapes emerge from the darkness. Half women half birds, imbued with the calm and fury of the winds. Harpies.  
“Oh gross he smells so strongly of arrogance and greed!”  
“Shut up, he won’t smell once he’s finally dead.”  
“Speaking of..”  
Cornelius takes one step towards the harpies, preparing to slash. Reading his blade, he throws his great strength behind the weapon, intending to kill. The harpies’ eyes widen in surprise, and just as the blade is about to cut…  
They smirk.


	28. Machine

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> TW:  
> Abusive relationship

Speak out the words  
Force them in my ears  
Watch as they compute  
And I spit out that automatic response once more

Machine Machine  
Automation at it’s finest  
Rip away my humanity  
Take it all for yourself  
Fix the holes with gears  
Look at me as I lose the capability to produce tears

Am I to your standards  
Am I subservient enough  
Am I nice enough  
Am I a good enough emotional punching bag?

Machine Machine  
Your wonderful creation  
I’m human no longer  
Use me as you wish  
Watch as I crumble to nothing  
What more could you possibly want from me?


	29. Brash

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> TW:  
> Self-deprecation  
> Reference to suicidal intentions

It’s gonna get him killed one day.   
Rushing into battle, gun already smoking, no plan in sight. It took all the willpower within Raith to not use her scythe and throw him back beyond their first wave of soldier. He dived into the fray like he had something to prove every time, like he wasn’t already one of Hell’s most important fighters.   
To everyone else he looked brash, cocky, overdetermined. Stupid.  
Raith knew it for what it was. He didn’t think himself worthy. He fought like this cause he does think he has something to prove, some sort of weird small town boy complex shit. Like he wasn’t already beginning to hold her at a standstill in spars. Like he wasn’t the only other person besides Raith to withstand the power within Sloane’s shards, like he didn’t help her when Raith wanted, needed, to free her. Like he wasn’t one of the only people Raith had left.  
So Will might be headstrong, and hopeless self-deprecating in the worst possible ways. It’s fine. She knows she’ll always have his back.   
She’s not losing another one.


	30. Nook

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> TW:  
> None

I have my little nook  
I have my little cranny  
Small and warm  
Soft and safe  
But I still miss you  
So damn much


	31. Pumpkin

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> TW:  
> None
> 
> Based on Pocket Mirror by Astral Shift

A giggling sounds from behind me, a high tittering thing. I whip around but see nothing in the darkness, and the silence is overwhelming. I continue on the dim path, nothing but my candlelight to guide me. The tiles are plain white, slightly dirty and scuffed. I can barely see more than a foot ahead of me, and what extends past that light feels like nothingness. Time seems to drag its feet alongside me, as this path walks on and on and on. Then it happens again.

A small laughter from my right. Mocking me. 

“Who are you? Where are you?” I demand. 

Another giggle from my left.

“Reveal yourself!”

Yet another giggle from ahead and then...

“Oho what do we have here”  
“Oh she looks weird”  
“What’s that dress”  
“Do you think she’s who the king is asking for”  
“Absolutely delightful!”

I blink, and suddenly small pumpkins surround me on all sides. They have faces delicately carved into their fronts, wide open smiles that move as they chitter at me. Their leaves move and rustle, and they brush at my ankles. 

“What are you?” I ask.

“Why dear girl, we’re servants of the Pumpkin King..

_And you will be too!” ___


	32. Bones

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> TW:  
> Graphic deaths   
> Bones

All that was left were bones.

The grass had been burned away, wilting and vaporizing under the intense light. The trees were hollowed out and dried up, the rivers and lakes became empty holes, towns turned to ruins in an instant. And then there were the bodies. Hundreds of thousands dead in a blink, skeletons slumped over and falling as they turned to nothing. No expression could be caught because all flesh had been burned away, the entire kingdom a husk of what it once was in all senses. 

There were no survivors of that battle from the kingdom of darkness. She was alone.


	33. Witch

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> TW:  
> None I think

It was a terrible power they held within their grasps. The worshipers of a goddess uncontained, split into three, divine of the crows and battle and doom. The power her witches called from within them was born of the darkness in a human’s soul: the frenzied bloodlust in battle, the trickery of ill intentions, the possessiveness of a lover wronged. The goddess cared little who lived or suffered or died for her causes as long as she got what she wanted in the end, and her witches were no different. They mutilated those who stood in opposition, they twisted nature to their whims, they claimed fate as their own. They were amazing allies and awe-inspiring enemies, but terrible people. They were known to lead good men and women and others astray. Those who fall victim to their sweet siren calls, telling them they love and cherish and will protect them, it will only fall through for them. The fate they control is only the fate of death, they foresee only bloody futures, and they assure them. So traveler, if you ever encounter a witch who calls her master The Morrigan, run as far and as fast as you can.


	34. Haunted

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> TW:  
> None I'm just sad

Am I always gonna see you?  
Hiding around in the background,  
In the corner of my eyes,  
In the depths of my soul?

I seem to ask this question so much  
Lord knows how many pieces I’ve made  
Are all about you

But I’m asking if its  
Maybe just maybe  
Possible to rewrite  
Over 5 years of instincts

I still see things and think of you  
I don’t know if I’ll ever separate them  
From you and your thoughts

You haunt me  
Both for good and bad  
You made me smile  
You made me cry

I think I might always reach out  
For the shade of you in my vision  
That never leaves

But I think I’m starting  
To be okay with that  
Starting to learn   
To be me without you

I’ll reach for those things we shared  
And maybe you’ll always be within it  
But I can rewrite over you

So I will.


	35. Horror

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> TW:  
> None

Daniel sighed. Looking at the decrepit house, he could see why Lila was so hellbent on visiting it. Right up her alley, what with the blinds falling off the sides of the windows, the door hanging on by a single hinge, and y’know the casual gaping hole in the roof. Great.  
“What Daniel, you too chickenshit to join us?”  
“No just, this thing looks like it's already taken enough of a beating before. WHy the hell do you want to go in anyway?”  
“Welllllllllllll, I heard that a serial killer used to fuck around in here and I wanna see if I can find anything left behind to sell on Ebay. Shit sells great.” Lila paused, then gestured over to their other friend. “And hubert wants to see if he can find some ghosts.”  
Daniel finally turns to face his other idiotic friend, only to find Hubert already poking around in stuff he shouldn’t and moving ahead. Lila looks and sees him start to go in.  
“Wait Hub, I wanna see too hold up!”  
She rushes in behind him and leaves Daniel to be the only one outside the house.  
“Why am I friends with these guys again….”  
“C’mon bitchboy get in here already! Or is too horrific for you like that one time you played that horror game and...”  
“SHUT UP!”


	36. Nightmare

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> TW:  
> Gore  
> Burning

It’s dark again. Warm and cozy and dark. She knows it never lasts, but she sinks into it anyway. She lets the reminders of her home, her beautiful once thriving home, envelop her and give her the sense of safety she only gets here now. She lets it whisper in her ears the songs of her childhood, the language and culture of her people. She lets it make her feel whole again, lets it make her feel like she belongs. She lets it make her feel like she’s good enough. It doesn’t last.  
Light. Blinding brilliant light fills her eyes, her lungs, her soul. She can’t escape it, she knows she cannot. It wants to drive her out, wants to get rid of her darkness, get rid of all she was, is, could be. It burns. Her blood boils within her veins, making her already burning skin rupture. Her eyes are burnt away, her guts explode from her body. She tries to retch, but her throat has been burnt away and blood fills her mouth. Her hair is on fire and sets her scalp alight, her muscles melting, her gem becoming molten and hurting her further. It hurts.   
It stops suddenly, but she knows the torture isn’t over. The scene is her palace, no one is around. She drags her mangled body along, seeing without eyes, moving limbs that by no means should be able to walk. She reaches the balcony, and sees the sight that is always there but never gets any easier. Her people, her nation, her purpose is burning. Everyone she sees that is of the darkness is experiencing what she just did. She tries to barf, but cannot. She tries to turn away, but she is rooted to the spot. So she must watch as the light burns her beloved city to the ground, as the light destroys her people from inside out in the most grotesque way possible. Piles of bone and melted flesh fill the streets as they try to escape, but there is none. The soldiers of the light watch, and laugh. They mess with those in agony, taking delight in their pain. She can’t save any of them. She never could.   
She shoots up in her bed, breathing heavily. Dripping sweat, she checks herself just to see that she’s perfectly fine. For now. She knows this nightmare is a prophecy. She just doesn't know how to stop it.


	37. Crimson

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> TW:  
> Gore  
> Injury  
> Death  
> Blood

It wasn’t a shallow cut. She could see his lungs, his ribcage, his intestines beginning to fall out. Her axe was soaked. She felt crazed, looking upon the damage she caused to someone she once called brother. Her eyes met his, it was clear he felt similar. His lance was shot through her heart, she could feel her own blood starting to race up her throat. And yet they were stuck in this stance, this moment of ultimate betrayal and forgiveness. They were going to die. Diana wasn’t close enough to save them, though they could hear her screams approaching. But perhaps their world would be better for it. Perhaps their two sides could make peace upon their shared spilled blood, upon the crimson that had begun to seep into the ground. Perhaps this moment of utter violence would be regarded as the start of peace, of Diana’s rule. Neither of their viewpoints were meant to win. They knew that now. And as they both sank to their knees, they reached out to each other one final time. Crying, she held him like she did a lifetime ago, when they were carefree happy children. Before their lives were made to tatters, before they had to pick up their weapons far too early. She cradled his head upon her chest, right above his weapon that shredded her heart. He clutched her back with just as much desperation, grabbing her back like he would be lost without her. And they, right before the moment of their death, finally sobbed for all they had lost. 

When Diana finally reached their bodies, they had long gone cold, drained of the crimson passion that once made them her family.


	38. Cat

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> TW:   
> Slight gore

Perhaps it should have been unsurprising now that she thought about it. There were clues everywhere, red flag after red flag. The same eyes, the same sort of knowing smirk, the same everything. But how was she supposed to know her fucking girlfriend was a demon cat?!? She didn’t think those existed until like a half hour ago, but here she is in the middle of the forest, trying to wrap her head around what had happened. Her best friend, dead. Chest ripped open, heart on the floor. Face scratched almost beyond belief. It was sickening. Then she looked past the mangled corpse and saw her. Saw her change from a terrifying black panther, to the small street cat that followed her everywhere, to her girlfriend. Heard her say she did it all for them, say he was in the way. Heard her explanation of how she was a cat demon, a powerful one, and he was a lower level snake demon. She was apparently some sort of spirit funnel, whatever the fuck that meant, and he was sucking the life from her for years. Adriana then gave her a choice: Stay with her or risk being unprotected. She had 5 days to decide. Her love wasn’t fake, she assured her, on either end. That’s why she even bothered. Logically, she knew the right choice, but shit. Her entire world just got flipped. What the fuck.


	39. Undead

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> TW:  
> SEVERE GORE: This was an attempt to see how gory I could get off the top of my head. Heavily based on Scourge from WoW.

This was… disturbing to say the least. Not at all to plan to understate. Half his men were down, a fourth of them standing, and the others…  
Well the others were playing for the other side now.   
He surveyed the battlefield, bow across his back and lance within his grasp. Their lines were falling, and quick. He hadn’t heard from his lieutenant in ages now, and only one of his generals can be seen. She wasn’t with him anymore. Corpses littered the ground, wine dark liquid spilling from inhuman afflictions. They couldn’t win. Not when they could raise their dead troops right back at them. The commander took up his place at the front once more, and with his face twisted and guilty, screamed his last orders. They’d go down, but they'd go down fighting. He turned his attention to the first abomination that approached him. A simple ghoul, grotesque nonetheless. Flesh left hanging from bones in tatters, blood long gone from inside but the lifeblood of its victims drips from its hands and mouth, caught underneath black and broken fingernails. The smell of rot and puss reaches his nose, and he has to focus to not recoil. Teeth snarl at him from a mouth with lips long gone, chunks of gum missing or falling before his eyes. It lunges at him, soulless eyes dead set on his body. He dodges, and manages to hit it in the side, throwing it away from him. It hits the ground with both a crack and a squelch, and another piece of its yellow rotted flesh slides off like fat. It rises again, and makes for the same move as before. This time he manages to behead the thing, but it still keeps going. Whatever was left of the hair on its head flies off as the head hits the ground but the body keeps going. He chops it to more pieces, becoming covered in rotten guts and entrails, unknown plague liquid that already makes him feel weak. He turns his attention next to the larger creations of this sick faction. It stands multiple feet taller than him, and looks with eyes turned yellow and bloodshot. It is not made of just one person, he knows. The grey stitching that covers seams that leak who knows what signifies what this thing is. A deuil. Made from the flesh of women and children, strengthened by the tourture they had endured before and during its making. He swears he can almost hear them crying out to him for help. It advances towards him in an unstable walk, a hook for one hand, chains for the other. He can barely keep looking at the green and grey and yellow skin, the mouth stitched open and horrifying. When he swipes at it for the first time, striking true like he always does, its chest rips open and it pops like a blister. Sickly rot smelling liquid flows out like a waterfall, mixing with the blood already spilled on the floor, and its entrails also make their appearance. Chunks of undigested human flesh and other brown matter force their way out alongside stomach acid from the slice he left in its stomach. He feels bile move up his throat and water in his eyes, and he instinctively takes a step back. But even despite its injuries, it still moves on him though, still set in its goal. He can’t win this. It takes one last step, and he readies his weapon. They clash, lance to hook, and hook wins. He feels the pain and the wound as the hook makes its way past his skin, his muscle, his organs as it makes its way through. He throws up blood as he falls to the ground, and cries out as he makes impact. The creature looks at him and grins, before splashing some of the liquid from the ground into the gaping opening in his chest. It burns, and the last thing before he sees before he finally gives up the fight is an amalgamation of human parts made horrid and he can only smell the death and cursed undeath that awaits him.


	40. Ghost

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> TW:  
> Descriptions of Dissociation

You can’t see me anymore. Left in the blaze all alone I sit and burn. Watching. Waiting. You put everything we made into the flames, looked me in the eyes, smiled, and left. You come back every so often to look at the still living flames as they eat me and all my love alive. But you can’t see me anymore. I know it, because when you look at me your eyes don’t hold that light anymore. They’re blank as paper. Empty. There’s no curiosity in there, just acceptance and maybe a hit of nostalgia. I wonder what it's for. Me, or what we had. I think I know the answer. I just don’t like it.   
I’ve become a stranger in the places I once called home. Never been good at keeping connections, never one to be tied down. I drift and drift and drift and never can seem to keep my feet on the ground.   
Everyone else has an anchor, they know who they are, they know where they are. I don’t know if I have that. I don’t know if I ever did.   
I don’t know who I am. I am remnants of things from the past, blurry visions of the future, a distorted view of the present. I don’t know where I am. I just know I’m not here. I don’t think I’ve ever been fully here.   
It used to scare me, still does sometimes. It's more than a loss of control, at least then you know your arm is your arm. Sometimes it feels like my body isn’t mine, sometimes it feels like I’m not fully connected to it. Sometimes a few screws are loose, some are connections lost.   
I don’t know how to describe it to you, how as I look at my hands moving across these keys, I can’t really understand that they’re mine. How sometimes my vision fails me and I can’t tell where I am or where I’m going. How sometimes I genuinely cannot comprehend where things in a space are.   
I like to think you almost got it. You almost knew how I saw things, how sometimes I wasn’t there with you. I just don’t know if you liked it very much. If you thought it was frustrating that sometimes, I was in a place you couldn’t reach.   
I’ve gotten better at hiding it, hiding when I’m away. It’s happening more lately, in case you’re wondering. College is really stressful. Life is really stressful. I don’t think my mind likes being here, but it doesn’t know where else to go, so it just. Leaves.   
I miss you. I know I don’t feel things all that strongly sometimes, or just certain emotions, but I can tell there’s a longing there. In my chest. My heart is still reaching for you even though you set it ablaze.   
I really wish I was normal. I wish I felt at home in my own skin. I wish I could stay in it without some part of me wandering off. I wish you didn’t leave. I’m sorry.  
I’m just a ghost though, aren’t I? You can’t hear my cries, no one can. Plus what does it matter, if just one more spirit is lamenting? It’s normal, isn’t it?


	41. Dark

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> TW:  
> None Im just fucking sappy af

It’s dark without you here my friend. The shadows seem longer, the black creeps into my vision more, the cold seeps deep into my bones. I miss your warmth, your smiles, your laughs. I miss how you absolutely light up a room. Hearing your voice through a phone is nice and all, but it dulls in comparison to what it's like to be in your presence. A dark screen stares back at me now, as I think about you. Soon enough it’ll light up with a message with your name at the top, or well your nickname, I wonder who will be first tonight. I miss you, you know that right? I worry too. I know you’re struggling. I know there’s darkness that nips at your heels. I know you worry about me too, I’d say sorry for that but then you’d get all sad. I don’t like making you worry, but the sadness is worse. You always seem to know when somethings up, it's a bit frustrating to be honest. But you’re always patient with me, even when I am covered from head to toe in darkness and the only thing that drips from my tongue is icor. I can never thank you enough for that. Keep your head up for me friend, face the world. I know you’ll do great things, the future is just obscured by the night right now. Once dawn breaks we’ll see each other once more, and we’ll face the destinies that await us in the sunshine. Hold out until then friend. I love you.


	42. Moon

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> TW:  
> None?

It was go time. Manius and her had been training for months, trying to get over the natural animosity that sprouted between them from when they first locked eyes. But now, under this full moon, they were ready. The creatures they has to fight were those forged within the fierce light of an unrelenting sun, made of fire and heat and absolutes. But they were servants of the darkness, slippery and cold and full of infinite possibilities. Hell, Manius was practically night incarnate. The only master he bowed to was Luna herself, cursed aspect of divine power and ruler of demons. She wasn’t his master in the slightest, and she knew it. They were equals under her light, and together they would eliminate this threat to the balance. They were human and demon, witch and familiar, temptress and panther. They made their way around camp like shadows, her making fire flesh and him ripping them shred to shred. They were fast, efficient, adaptable. And when they finally faced the general himself, they didn’t even have to glance at each other. Manius used his own magic to chain him down as she began to drain the power from him, funneling sunlight and changing it before his eyes into moonrays. And just before he was dissipated completely, the pair spoke in unison.  
“The balance exists for a reason general. Don’t you nor your master forget that.”


	43. Ruin

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> TW:  
> None

A single house stands in the middle of a razed field, embers of once fierce flames still alight with angry reds. The door is ripped off its hinges, the windows are smashed in, the brick is charred. The roof is in tatters, an entire portion of it crashed in on the left side. The floorboards are scuffed and broken and still smoking. The drywall is blackened, broken, leftover holes from punches left for whatever brave soul wanted to enter the decrepit home to interpret. The furniture is nothing but ash, the decor raided and gone. The stairs are burnt down and the cabinets are empty. There’s nothing much left in these ruins beyond the specter of what once was and could have been.


	44. October

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> TW:  
> Death

Leaves the colors of fading life  
Yellow for rotting flesh  
Orange for mushrooms growing from the body  
Red for blood pooling  
Brown for the dirt we will all return to  
One day when our time is up  
We will make like the trees  
And leaf


	45. Promise

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> You ever just get really depressed and like stop doing prompts for a month? Anyway hi I'm back  
> TW:  
> Death

It was futile from the start, and he knew it. It didn’t bother him, not anymore, not after this many years. It didn’t matter how he felt, really, to no fault of anyone. It didn’t matter that after 5 years, her smile still set his heart alight. Didn’t matter that his eyes still sought her out in every meeting, every training session, every battleground. Didn’t matter that she was the first person he felt like he could trust after so long. Will knew better now. She owed him nothing, and yet she still gave him her time and her friendship and her protection. That was enough. It took him a while to come to terms with that, to come to terms with the ache that may be ever present in his heart when he looks at her. Some part of Will Dulvagir was always going to love Raith, in more than one way. She was his battlemate, his confidant, his strategist, his friend. She was someone that perhaps in another life could have been something more, but she wasn’t. She was his Raith, his beautiful friend with a crack in her heart the size of the chasm. She was Raith, a girl who had lost the love of her life far too young. Will knew little about Sloane, having only met her spirit form once not long ago. From the way Raith spoke of her though, he knew she was a good person. She was Raith’s everything, and losing her was a blow she’d never recover from. Will knew this, knew this from the beginning. Knew that to him, Raith would be forever inaccessible. It didn’t stop his love for her from growing, and for a while he was immature about it. But he’s older now, wiser, grizzled by years of war and death. He knows better. He loves Raith, so he’ll make her happy no matter what. When he met Sloane, she knew just from looking at him that he loved Raith too. They both knew she’d never move on from her. Sloane tried to apologize back then, but he wouldn’t have it. They were good for each other, and would have made a beautiful couple had they survived. Will knew his place was not with her. They both did. So Sloane asked of him a favor: “Look after her. Please. I can’t anymore and I know my absence is killing her. Help her save herself. Keep her safe.” He agreed of course. He’d already made his own promise years ago, when he realized they would never be together. Will Dulvagir would do anything to keep Raith safe and happy, even and especially if it wasn’t with him.


	46. Sunlight

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> TW:  
> Trapped Underground  
> Death

It was warm. The light hit his arms and encased them in a layer of warmth, and when he leaned his head into the beam, it did the same. After months of being trapped underground with no escape, the cold seeping into his bones, the sunlight was a welcome change. The grass swayed with the light breeze that brought along the scent of freshly bloomed flowers and the rushing creek to his left, brushing through his hair like a lover. A moment of peace within a war of death and destruction and fire and desperation. He’s desperate, so fucking desperate. Desperate for an end, desperate for a way to end this conflict with the least pain possible. He’s called out to any higher power and none have answered. The God of his world is sadistic and cruel, the Devil barely better. The people of his world are starving, dying, suffering, crying out for a peace that seems less and less likely with every day that passes. He lays down in the grass and covers his face with his hands. His shoulders shake and his eyes water without his permission, and before he knows it he’s crying in a field bathed in sunlight, begging without words for an end he doesn’t know if he can imagine anymore.


	47. Gaze

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> TW:  
> Kinda flirty

Like a feather dancing along her skin, their eyes trailed across her. From her eyes to her lips to her shoulders to her hands. They watched as she turned a cherry red, blushing like a pink blossom in spring. A flash of teeth, a quick movement of a hand, and the next thing she knew, they were right by her side. Their eyes met hers, bright to dark, timid to intense, and she gulped. Their burning gaze followed the movement, chuckling as they took in her reaction. She flushed more, but stood her ground. Another deep chuckle and they were offering their hand. She took it and allowed herself to be swept across the ballroom as if the two were floating on air. They continued their gaze, lazily taking in her features as they led her in a dance like no other. She dared to stare right back, rewarded with another quicksilver smile. A dangerous game she was choosing to play, but a fun one nonetheless. Trading glances and waltzes with the Devil is not something you get to do every day after all.


End file.
